Plato, The
Allegory of
the Cave

The son of a
wealthy and noble family, Plato (427-347 B.C.) was preparing for a career in politics when
the trial and eventual execution of Socrates (399 B.C.) changed the course of his life. He
abandoned his political career and turned to philosophy, opening a school on the outskirts
of Athens dedicated to the Socratic search for wisdom. Plato's school, then known as the
Academy, was the first university in western history and operated from 387 B.C. until A.D.
529, when it was closed by Justinian.

Unlike his mentor Socrates, Plato was both a writer and a teacher. His
writings are in the form of dialogues, with Socrates as the principal speaker. In the Allegory
of the Cave, Plato described symbolically the predicament in which mankind finds
itself and proposes a way of salvation. The Allegory presents, in brief form,
most of Plato's major philosophical assumptions: his belief that the world revealed by our
senses is not the real world but only a poor copy of it, and that the real world can only
be apprehended intellectually; his idea that knowledge cannot be transferred from teacher
to student, but rather that education consists in directing student's minds toward what is
real and important and allowing them to apprehend it for themselves; his faith that the
universe ultimately is good; his conviction that enlightened individuals have an
obligation to the rest of society, and that a good society must be one in which the truly
wise (the Philosopher-King) are the rulers.

The Allegory of the Cave can be found in Book VII of Plato's
best-known work, The Republic, a lengthy dialogue on the nature of justice. Often
regarded as a utopian blueprint, The Republic is dedicated toward a discussion of
the education required of a Philosopher-King.

The following selection is taken from the Benjamin Jowett translation
(Vintage, 1991), pp. 253-261. As you read the Allegory, try to make a mental
picture of the cave Plato describes. Better yet, why not draw a picture of it and refer to
it as you read the selection. In many ways, understanding Plato's Allegory of the Cave
will make your foray into the world of philosophical thought much less burdensome.

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[Socrates] And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature
is enlightened or unenlightened: --Behold! human beings living in a underground cave,
which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the cave; here they have
been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move,
and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their
heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the
prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the
way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show
the puppets.
[Glaucon] I see.
[Socrates] And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying
all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and
various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
[Glaucon] You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange
prisoners.
[Socrates] Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own
shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the
cave?
[Glaucon] True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if
they were never allowed to move their heads?
[Socrates] And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they
would only see the shadows?
[Glaucon] Yes, he said.
[Socrates] And if they were able to converse with one another, would they
not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?
[Glaucon] Very true.
[Socrates] And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came
from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that
the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
[Glaucon] No question, he replied.
[Socrates] To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the
shadows of the images.
[Glaucon] That is certain.
[Socrates] And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the
prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is
liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look
towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be
unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then
conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now,
when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence,
he has a clearer vision, -what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his
instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, -will
he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer
than the objects which are now shown to him?
[Glaucon] Far truer.
[Socrates] And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he
not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and take in the objects
of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the
things which are now being shown to him?
[Glaucon] True, he now.
[Socrates] And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a
steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he 's forced into the presence of the sun
himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his
eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now
called realities.
[Glaucon] Not all in a moment, he said.
[Socrates] He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper
world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other
objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of
the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by
night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?
[Glaucon] Certainly.
[Socrates] Last of he will be able to see the sun, and not mere
reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in
another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
[Glaucon] Certainly.
[Socrates] He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the
season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a
certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to
behold?
[Glaucon] Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason
about him.
[Socrates] And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of
the cave and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on
the change, and pity them?
[Glaucon] Certainly, he would.
[Socrates] And if they were in the habit of conferring honors among
themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which
of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were
therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care
for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,

Better to be the poor servant of a poor master,

and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?
[Glaucon] Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than
entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
[Socrates] Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly out of
the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full
of darkness?
[Glaucon] To be sure, he said.
[Socrates] And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in
measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the cave, while his
sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be
needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable) would he not be
ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and
that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another
and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to
death.
[Glaucon] No question, he said.
[Socrates] This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear
Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of
the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards
to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief,
which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether
true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last
of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the
universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of
light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the
intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally, either in
public or private life must have his eye fixed.
[Glaucon] I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you.
[Socrates] Moreover, I said, you must not wonder that those who attain to
this beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human affairs; for their souls are ever
hastening into the upper world where they desire to dwell; which desire of theirs is very
natural, if our allegory may be trusted.
[Glaucon] Yes, very natural.
[Socrates] And is there anything surprising in one who passes from divine
contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving himself in a ridiculous manner; if,
while his eyes are blinking and before he has become accustomed to the surrounding
darkness, he is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other places, about the images
or the shadows of images of justice, and is endeavoring to meet the conceptions of those
who have never yet seen absolute justice?
[Glaucon] Anything but surprising, he replied.
[Socrates] Any one who has common sense will remember that the
bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming
out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as
much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this when he sees any one whose vision is
perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of
man has come out of the brighter light, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the
dark, or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will
count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or,
if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will
be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of
the light into the cave.
[Glaucon] That, he said, is a very just distinction.
[Socrates] But then, if I am right, certain professors of education must
be wrong when they say that they can put a knowledge into the soul which was not there
before, like sight into blind eyes.
[Glaucon] They undoubtedly say this, he replied.
[Socrates] Whereas, our argument shows that the power and capacity of
learning exists in the soul already; and that just as the eye was unable to turn from
darkness to light without the whole body, so too the instrument of knowledge can only by
the movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming into that of being,
and learn by degrees to endure the sight of being, and of the brightest and best of being,
or in other words, of the good.
[Glaucon] Very true.
[Socrates] And must there not be some art which will effect conversion in
the easiest and quickest manner; not implanting the faculty of sight, for that exists
already, but has been turned in the wrong direction, and is looking away from the truth?
[Glaucon] Yes, he said, such an art may be presumed.
[Socrates] And whereas the other so-called virtues of the soul seem to be
akin to bodily qualities, for even when they are not originally innate they can be
implanted later by habit and exercise, the of wisdom more than anything else contains a
divine element which always remains, and by this conversion is rendered useful and
profitable; or, on the other hand, hurtful and useless. Did you never observe the narrow
intelligence flashing from the keen eye of a clever rogue --how eager he is, how clearly
his paltry soul sees the way to his end; he is the reverse of blind, but his keen eyesight
is forced into the service of evil, and he is mischievous in proportion to his cleverness.
[Glaucon] Very true, he said.
[Socrates] But what if there had been a circumcision of such natures in
the days of their youth; and they had been severed from those sensual pleasures, such as
eating and drinking, which, like leaden weights, were attached to them at their birth, and
which drag them down and turn the vision of their souls upon the things that are below
--if, I say, they had been released from these impediments and turned in the opposite
direction, the very same faculty in them would have seen the truth as keenly as they see
what their eyes are turned to now.
[Glaucon] Very likely.
[Socrates] Yes, I said; and there is another thing which is likely. or
rather a necessary inference from what has preceded, that neither the uneducated and
uninformed of the truth, nor yet those who never make an end of their education, will be
able ministers of State; not the former, because they have no single aim of duty which is
the rule of all their actions, private as well as public; nor the latter, because they
will not act at all except upon compulsion, fancying that they are already dwelling apart
in the islands of the blest.
[Glaucon] Very true, he replied.
[Socrates] Then, I said, the business of us who are the founders of the
State will be to compel the best minds to attain that knowledge which we have already
shown to be the greatest of all-they must continue to ascend until they arrive at the
good; but when they have ascended and seen enough we must not allow them to do as they do
now.
[Glaucon] What do you mean?
[Socrates] I mean that they remain in the upper world: but this must not
be allowed; they must be made to descend again among the prisoners in the cave, and
partake of their labors and honors, whether they are worth having or not.
[Glaucon] But is not this unjust? he said; ought we to give them a worse
life, when they might have a better?
[Socrates] You have again forgotten, my friend, I said, the intention of
the legislator, who did not aim at making any one class in the State happy above the rest;
the happiness was to be in the whole State, and he held the citizens together by
persuasion and necessity, making them benefactors of the State, and therefore benefactors
of one another; to this end he created them, not to please themselves, but to be his
instruments in binding up the State.
[Glaucon] True, he said, I had forgotten.
[Socrates] Observe, Glaucon, that there will be no injustice in
compelling our philosophers to have a care and providence of others; we shall explain to
them that in other States, men of their class are not obliged to share in the toils of
politics: and this is reasonable, for they grow up at their own sweet will, and the
government would rather not have them. Being self-taught, they cannot be expected to show
any gratitude for a culture which they have never received. But we have brought you into
the world to be rulers of the hive, kings of yourselves and of the other citizens, and
have educated you far better and more perfectly than they have been educated, and you are
better able to share in the double duty. Wherefore each of you, when his turn comes, must
go down to the general underground abode, and get the habit of seeing in the dark. When
you have acquired the habit, you will see ten thousand times better than the inhabitants
of the cave, and you will know what the several images are, and what they represent,
because you have seen the beautiful and just and good in their truth. And thus our State
which is also yours will be a reality, and not a dream only, and will be administered in a
spirit unlike that of other States, in which men fight with one another about shadows only
and are distracted in the struggle for power, which in their eyes is a great good. Whereas
the truth is that the State in which the rulers are most reluctant to govern is always the
best and most quietly governed, and the State in which they are most eager, the worst.
[Glaucon] Quite true, he replied.
[Socrates] And will our pupils, when they hear this, refuse to take their
turn at the toils of State, when they are allowed to spend the greater part of their time
with one another in the heavenly light?
[Glaucon] Impossible, he answered; for they are just men, and the
commands which we impose upon them are just; there can be no doubt that every one of them
will take office as a stern necessity, and not after the fashion of our present rulers of
State.
[Socrates] Yes, my friend, I said; and there lies the point. You must
contrive for your future rulers another and a better life than that of a ruler, and then
you may have a well-ordered State; for only in the State which offers this, will they rule
who are truly rich, not in silver and gold, but in virtue and wisdom, which are the true
blessings of life. Whereas if they go to the administration of public affairs, poor and
hungering after the' own private advantage, thinking that hence they are to snatch the
chief good, order there can never be; for they will be fighting about office, and the
civil and domestic broils which thus arise will be the ruin of the rulers themselves and
of the whole State.
[Glaucon] Most true, he replied.
[Socrates] And the only life which looks down upon the life of political
ambition is that of true philosophy. Do you know of any other?
[Glaucon] Indeed, I do not, he said.
[Socrates] And those who govern ought not to be lovers of the task? For,
if they are, there will be rival lovers, and they will fight.
[Glaucon] No question.
[Socrates] Who then are those whom we shall compel to be guardians?
Surely they will be the men who are wisest about affairs of State, and by whom the State
is best administered, and who at the same time have other honors and another and a better
life than that of politics?
[Glaucon] They are the men, and I will choose them, he replied.
[Socrates] And now shall we consider in what way such guardians will be
produced, and how they are to be brought from darkness to light, -- as some are said to
have ascended from the world below to the gods?
[Glaucon] By all means, he replied.
[Socrates] The process, I said, is not the turning over of an
oyster-shell, but the turning round of a soul passing from a day which is little better
than night to the true day of being, that is, the ascent from below, which we affirm to be
true philosophy?
[Glaucon] Quite so.